


Are we doing something?

by kiwialicat



Category: America's Cup, Sports RPF
Genre: America's Cup 2017, Emirates Team New Zealand, Hot sailing boys, M/M, RPF, The world's first Am Cup Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 07:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11458626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwialicat/pseuds/kiwialicat
Summary: Last time, the only time, had been after the gold medal.  Pete had wanted to say something afterwards, but Blair was gone when he woke up, and then daylight came and the rules had changed.  He had to assume all on his own that it didn’t mean anything other than winning made Blair horny.A post winning celebration that might mean more this time around.





	Are we doing something?

**Author's Note:**

> If there's another America's Cup fanfic anywhere in the world, I'd love to know about it. It's a crying shame that no one's written something like this before. If you stumble on this and read til the end, any sort of brief comment will mean the world :D

“You can touch it if you want.”

Pete smiles to himself, and leans back into the hand that’s there, pressed gently into the small of his back.

His head tilts to one side, his eyes momentarily losing their focus, before the gleam of the silvery object in front of him takes shape again.  He tightens his fingers around the beer bottle in his hand.  It might be empty.  He’s been holding it for what feels like hours.

“What time is it?”

He feels the hand move across him, almost curling a little around his side.

The reply, when it comes, feels closer.

“Some time after 4am.”

Pete nods a little. “How did it get in here?”

There’s a chuckle, a pause and that voice, dropped lower, too low.  Too much like that time before.

“We carried it in here before someone dropped the damn thing.”

The bottle is being tugged out of his grasp, fingers brushing unnecessarily across the back of his hand in the process.  Pete feels himself sway a little.  It’s not the alcohol.  He hasn’t had all that much to drink.

“How did _you_ get in here?”

He can hear the grin of amusement.

“I walked through the door,” and as if Pete’s thoughts are somehow visible in the room “and locked it behind me.”

“Locked it?”  Now he turns his head a little.  Fingers curl in his shirt, and Blair’s there, smiling and suggesting with no words.

“You just won the America’s Cup.”

Blair’s eyes are sparkling, even in the low-lit room.  Pete stares, caught in his usual internal battle.  Most times his thoughts seem well formed.  Most times they come out as slightly less well-formed words, but they are good enough.  Now, he doesn’t trust what’s going to come out of his mouth next.

He smiles, looking back at the ridiculously over the top sporting trophy.

“Guess so,” he manages to mumble out.

Blair pushes his nose into the base of Pete’s neck, and Pete doesn’t move.  He’s often wondered if the rules change after 3am.  Things happen, and maybe they don’t really mean as much as they would in the cold light of day, or maybe people just don’t recall them, and that’s enough to let life go on as if nothing happened.

“You won it too.” Pete manages, despite the body now pressing into him and the warm breath against his skin.

“Hmm?” Blair prompts.

Pete swallows as Blair looks up.

“I didn’t think we were doing this again.”

There.  Pete’s managed to get out the words well enough.  He can’t look at Blair now.  He traces the outline of the cup and waits.

“ _Are_ we doing something?” Blair questions, and to confirm that they are in fact doing _something_ , Blair kisses Pete’s neck before slipping around between Pete and the cup and filling his gaze.

“I think we might be doing something.” Pete’s as deadpan as ever, but it doesn’t put Blair off.

“No.”  Blair shakes his head. “ _We_ aren’t doing anything yet, but we could be.”

Blair lifts a hand and Pete feels it ghost up his neck to cup his jaw.  Pete’s expecting some more words.  He doesn’t notice he’s leaning into the touch or that his eyelids are half closed.

He’s like that for a while.  How long doesn’t really matter when he shouldn’t really be conscious at all at this hour.  Slowly, as his eyes open up again and he manages to focus, he lets a hand reach for Blair, resting awkwardly at his hip.

“Are they still out there?”

Blair smiles. “No one’s leaving any time soon.  Don’t worry.  They won’t come looking for you.”

Pete wonders if Blair’s been planning this.  Even if he hasn’t, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s forming a plan as he goes.  Pete smiles anyway.  He always smiles when Blair smiles first. 

Last time, the only time, had been after the gold medal.  Pete had wanted to say something afterwards, but Blair was gone when he woke up, and then daylight came and the rules had changed.  He had to assume all on his own that it didn’t mean anything other than winning made Blair horny.

And here they are again.

Pete’s other hand is in the middle of Blair’s chest.  Blair’s eyes drop to it, but he doesn’t move backwards.  It’s not exactly a barrier.  Pete finds his fingertips curling a little.  Blair’s body is warm, so warm under his touch.

“I…” and he’s not sure he can get this out in one smooth string of words.  Blair looks up. “Why didn’t we ever talk about last time?”  There.  Good enough.  Blair’s expression doesn’t change.  Pete feels what he slowly recognises as relief flood through him. 

“I didn’t think you…” and now Pete’s not the only one needing his brain and mouth to align “I thought you regretted it.”

Pete frowns, “No.” It comes out quickly and there’s a look on his face that matches the almost horrified tone that accompanies it.

Blair laughs a little. He glances away and some tension ebbs out into the room.

“I mean no, I didn’t regret it.” Pete softens his tone.

Blair’s nodding a little, grinning now, “yeah, apparently not.” He curls his fingers around Pete’s wrist and tugs his hand away, letting his other hand snake around him as he does.

“So we should talk then,” Pete states evenly.

Blair pulls Pete against him as he makes the suggestion.  The words may as well have been an offer to discuss sailing tactics for all emotion behind them, but Blair knows Pete.  He doesn’t need declarations of affection to understand what’s just happened.

“Yeah…talk…” Blair tilts his head up.  Pete’s taller and Blair likes it.  He likes everything that’s powerful and brilliant about Pete without being overt. Pete doesn’t try to be smart, successful or a hero, he just is.  Blair kisses the corner of Pete’s mouth and mumbles, “we can talk the shit out of this later.”

Pete smiles, feeling the last vestiges of his usually rigid control slipping away.  He _does_ want to talk.  As he angles his head slightly, capturing Blair’s lips against his own, he feels the change between them.  It’s been there.  This last few weeks, he’s let himself think about winning and Blair how the two go hand in hand. 

Blair’s kissing him now, throwing everything into it like he always does.  Pete tucks everything else away, because this is another moment he needs to be in, to go alongside all the others that he can barely believe are parts of his life.

Pete closes his eyes and pulls Blair against him and it brings back all the things he’s worked hard to file away; how Blair’s body feels, how Blair smells, how Blair tastes.

He doesn’t realise he’s pushed Blair up against the table until Blair’s letting go and reaching behind him, muttering out a breathy “fuck” as he grabs for the cup.

Blair’s back has brushed up against it, and there’s an instant when Pete’s imagines having to answer to how he managed to dent the cup while it was in his care.  Blair lets out a burst of relieved laughter, and Pete follows him as they break apart a little.  Blair’s hand has managed to latch onto the handle and he stands and catches his breath, while eyeing the inanimate object that’s managed to get in-between him and Pete despite having actually brought them back to this place.

He lets go and shoves Pete backwards, safely out of reach of the cup, his eyes dark and his lips curling in a sly grin.

“Bed.”

Pete forgets, for a minute, that this is the room the shore crew uses to take naps in when they have to work overnight.  It hits him that he hasn’t been thinking far enough ahead to consider where this might be going, but now that he does, he stops, Blair close as he senses the sudden hold Pete’s put on things.  

Blair rests his palms on Pete’s chest and watches him carefully.

“Or…not?”

Pete smiles, finally, thinking way too many things for the moment and hoping he’ll be able to remember some of them later.  Because there are things he wants to say to Blair, and it’s clear as the bright Bermuda day now he’s standing in front of him like this. 

“What?” it takes Blair’s slightly bemused voice to make Pete realise he’s holding up proceedings. 

“Bed.” Pete takes hold of one of Blair’s wrists, tugging him backwards. When he gets them there, Blair reaches for the bottom of Pete’s shirt, pausing as he glances at Pete for second.  It’d be a request for permission if Blair hadn’t already decided he was doing it anyway.  He tugs upwards, the tightly fitted team shirt needing a bit of encouragement to reveal Pete’s torso.

Pete lifts his arms, letting Blair push the shirt as far as he can manage before Pete has to take over.  Tossing it aside, Pete stands awkwardly, while Blair just looks at him, eventually letting his hands rest back where they’d been moments earlier.

Blair watches his fingers spread a little on Pete’s chest.  He’s touched Pete before, that one time before, but it was different to this.  There’s already a silent acknowledgement that this won’t be forgotten in the morning.  There’s something about feeling the warm skin under his fingers and the permission that goes along with it that could stall Blair right here and now.  But he’s still a male, and he still wants what his body wants and he pushes Pete down onto the bed, a slight thrill attached to that small amount of power.  Here’s the man who just won their country sport’s oldest trophy.  He’s literally steered the ship for a nation, and now he’s half-naked and waiting for Blair to show him what’s going to happen next.

Blair swallows, pulling his own shirt off as Pete watches him.  He’s had people admire his body before, but it’s not something he’ll ever get used to.  It’s served its purpose until now.  His profession is physical and the way he’s built reflects hours spent punishing his arms and legs out on the ocean.  It was never meant for this.  But now, it’s undeniably something that Pete’s admiring and Blair has to move, deflecting the attention by sliding onto the bed and pushing Pete onto his back as he leans over him.

“Hi.” Blair grins, peering at Pete in the gloom and hovering close as his arms hold his body up.  He feels Pete’s fingers as he reaches for this biceps before almost clumsily stroking a hand down Blair’s back.

Blair can’t stay close like this without the need to press his body against Pete’s and he lowers himself, settling on top of Pete with a satisfied sigh, pressing his lips to Pete’s jaw as he does.

Pete closes his eyes and wills himself to give in to what he wants.  He can feel Blair growing hard against him. It’s been difficult not to feel the overwhelming attraction he feels right now since that night in Rio.  Blair’s beautiful, and he’s been there when Pete’s needed someone to listen to his doubts and fears.  The only thing keeping Pete from acting or saying something has been the belief that Blair didn’t want this.  There’s a floodgate about to burst open and Pete feels it now, breaking apart and letting everything that he’s held back drive his actions and thoughts as he grows bold.  His hands slide over Blair’s skin, sliding lower, over his waistband to squeeze at one of Blair’s arse cheeks.

Blair lets out a sound into Pete’s neck and moves his hips, pressing down and creating the friction against his interested cock.  He moves his mouth close to Pete’s ear, letting out what he wants with no hesitation.

“I want to be inside you.”

Pete feels his body heat up like a furnace. They didn’t do this last time.  There’d been a slightly hurried handjob and Pete had let Blair suck him off.  By that time, they were so spent that sleep took over.

Blair’s lifted his head, trying to read Pete’s reaction.  Pete can see the uncertainty there.  Blair’s wondering if he’s gone too far.  Pete lets one hand push into the short hair at the back of Blair’s neck as he smiles a little.

“Yeah…” and his grin deepens, “what are you waiting for then?”

Pete parts his legs a little, his actions accompanying his words.  Blair kisses him hard, his tongue pushing into Pete almost desperately, telegraphing what’s building inside him.

Pete’s expecting some sort of awkward moment when they have to negotiate getting rid of clothes and the logistics of how this is all going to work.  Turns out Blair’s not overly concerned with making sure Pete’s okay with it all as he takes charge, lifting up slightly to undo Pete’s shorts.  Pete lies back and watches Blair tug at his pants, dragging them down his slender hips almost expertly, and leaving no barrier between them.

There’s a slight pause before Blair tugs the offending clothing off and out of the way during which he does what Pete imagines a pornstar might do in the movie of their encounter and leans down to tongue his way up Pete’s erect cock.  Pete would say something at this point, but he’s lost the ability to form actual words and sounds, as he watches Blair’s dark head lower over him.

He wants to reach down and keep Blair’s head right there, because this feels good.  Better than good.  He wonders how he’s forgotten how it felt last time to have Blair’s mouth on him.  Maybe it’s that after 3am thing.  Before his thoughts can really form properly enough to make him move in response, Blair’s lifting his head, watching Pete intently with those eyes and wetting his already damp lips.

Fucking pornstar, Pete thinks but can’t bring himself to be brave enough to say out loud.

“Have you done this before?”

Pete takes a moment to process what Blair’s asking.  He’s not sure if the answer is good or bad or whether it will change anything.  He doesn’t know if he wants Blair to know what he’s thinking.  He tries to tuck that away as he mutters out, “once.”

Blair simply nods, before Pete manages to add on, “you?”

Blair stills again, already in the process of straightening up so he can remove this own pants.  He smiles, and Pete thinks about how that smile will make him feel from now on.

“A time or two.”

So there it is.  An admission on both parts that last time, the one time, probably wasn’t just a heterosexual experiment.

Blair’s on his feet at the end of the bed, slowly pushing off his shorts and underwear.

Pete looks him over, feeling nervous and turned on in equal measures.  He’s unsure why Blair’s moving around the room, until he sees him take something out of a bag on the floor.

Blair’s crawling onto the bed, and Pete’s weighing up whether he should say something.  Too late though, as Blair’s way ahead of him, as he settles on his side, pressed against Pete, his head dipping to allow him to kiss Pete’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I was prepared.”  Blair keeps pressing his lips over Pete’s skin, maybe as a means of distraction. “I was kinda hoping…” his words trail off, the rest not needing to be said.

Pete doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t feel any one thing at the admission other than a need to be able to talk about this later when his head isn’t clouded by the need to let Blair make him feel even better than he already does.

“Like this…” Pete parts his legs a little, “so I can see you.”

It’s as brave as Pete can ever remember being out loud.  Standing up to Spithill in a press conference doesn’t come close to this. It earns him a half smirk from Blair as he reaches for the lube.

Blair moves again, positioning himself between Pete’s legs and running a hand up one of his thighs.

“I’m gonna…” Blair stops, his fingers coated in the slick liquid, as he watches Pete.

Pete chuckles a little, Blair joining him. “Yeah, you’d better.  Don’t worry…won’t break.”

Pete’s tilting his hips up in readiness, once again heading full speed into the unknown and taking a chance on something with risks that perhaps should make him think twice.

Blair watches him the whole time.  His hand moves between Pete’s legs, touching him intimately as he presses his wet fingers in against Pete’s opening, making Pete clench up a little.  It’s by no means a feeling he’s used to, and there’s a whisper of something approaching apprehension as he stares back at Blair.

“You’re still breathing, right?”

Pete grins, realising that perhaps he hadn’t been, “tell me if I start turning blue.”

Blair’s finger is circling at the tight ring of muscle now and part of Pete wants to tell him to get on with it.  Somehow his hand is around Blair’s bicep and his fingers are squeezing into it firmly.

Blair grins, glancing down at Pete’s fingers, “you know I haven’t actually done anything yet, right?”

Pete swallows, willing himself to loosen his fingers, and lifts his head a little, “are you gonna talk all night?”

Blair chuckles, pushing a finger slowly but steadily into Pete and studying the expression on his face as he does.  Blair doesn’t say anything else as he works his finger in and out of Pete.  He’s tight, and he knows they’re both thinking it, so it’s a while before he eases a second finger alongside the first and pushes them in slowly, sinking them as far as he can and pausing as he looks up Pete’s body.

Blair wants to touch himself at the sight.  No one gets to see this Pete, completely in the moment and unguarded, expressing everything on his usually impassive face.  Blair pushes his fingers in a little more firmly and curls them a little.  He feels Pete’s fingers tighten on this arm again and this time he can’t help himself; he moves the fingers that aren’t buried inside his sailing partner around his cock.  

“Fuck…” He doesn’t consciously close his eyes, but when he opens them again to stare down into Pete’s wide ones, he realises he’s lost a few seconds during which his hand has worked at his painfully solid cock and the pressure around them has made him fuck his fingers into Pete a little more firmly than he’d been intending.

“Shit…” Blair breathes, letting go of his cock before he embarrasses himself.  He could jerk himself to completion in no time at all, letting himself explode all over Pete, such is the power of his need right now.  He has to will himself to breathe, sliding his fingers out of Pete who squirms and pushes back against him at the withdrawal.  And oh fuck, Pete wants him now.  Pete’s eyes are dark and he’s brushing his fingers up his own cock, straining against his lower stomach.

“You’re…” Blair stills, waiting for what’s to come and not missing the awe in Pete’s voice.  It’s several seconds before Pete swallows, shaking his head a little from side to side, his voice slightly husky as he finishes, “tell you later.”

Blair just nods, almost able to finish Pete’s statement because he’s thinking the same thing.

Blair watches his fingers as if they’re no longer joined to him as he clumsily slicks up his cock.  He thinks fleetingly that he doesn’t have to hurry, but then his brain is being overruled by his body and he’s pushing Pete’s legs up so he can get him where he needs him.  Pete’s always been flexible, and Blair has no trouble moving over him and guiding his cock against the opening to Pete’s body.  And he’s there, ready, and this is where they’ve been heading towards without either of them consciously thinking about it.

Pete does his best to grab for any parts of Blair he can reach as he feels the head of his cock pressing against him.  Blair’s being purposely slow and unnecessarily gentle now, and Pete wants to tell him he’s going to jerk himself off if he doesn’t get on with it.  He’s not sure he’ll ever be one of those talkers, but the thought alone makes him push his hips up against Blair, encouraging him forward.

Blair has somehow managed to not sink into Pete as soon as he’s got them positioned where he needs them, but feeling Pete push against him, and catching the look in his eyes has him throwing away the small amount of control he’s suddenly found and he looks down at the point where their bodies join as he guides the head of his cock through the tightness of Pete’s body.

He’s only an inch inside Pete before the pressure and heat threatens to overwhelm him.  It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, and maybe it wouldn’t if it wasn’t this amazingly brilliant man below him.

“God…” Blair’s throat already feels a little dry and his voice a little rough as he stills for a minute.  “Tell me if you need me to stop,” and with that he eases deeper, pressing himself fully inside Pete and joining them in yet another way, to go with all the years they’ve formed a less physical bond.

Pete doesn’t feel the same intense stimulation.  There’s the pinch of discomfort at not being used to this, and there’s something else as well.  He feels a connection with Blair beyond friendship, and as Blair slides as deep inside him as he can go, he looks at him as if he’s only seeing him properly for the first time.

Pete has to remind himself to breathe as he feels his body relax, as slowly at first, Blair rocks his hips, causing a pleasant friction inside Pete.  It’s not discomfort anymore and Blair see the change in Pete’s expression, giving him the encouragement to increase his movements.

Pete’s eyes are almost closed as Blair manages to awkwardly lean down over him to get closer, kissing at the parts of him he can reach before muttering out, “I want to remember you like this.”

Pete’s eyes pop wide open at the admission, turning his head a little to meet Blair’s, and lifting a hand to push his fingers through his messy hair.

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem.”  Pete’s not sure if the meaning behind his words is clear, but now’s not really the time to elaborate as it’s effectively a signal for Blair to get them off, after hovering on the edge for longer than either of them would have thought possible.

Blair straightens up, lifting his body on straining arms, drawing Pete’s attention as he lets his well-defined muscles show.

Blair pulls his hips back as he moves, pulling out a short way before sliding home again, the delicious pressure enveloping his cock as he buries himself balls-deep.

The pleasant feeling building inside Pete changes as soon as Blair moves.  It’s like someone’s flicked a switch and he’s gone from feeling slightly warm to scalding hot with the thrust of Blair’s hips.  It didn’t feel anywhere like this the first and only time.  There’s been a part of him that’s been resisting the opportunity to feel this way.  The combination of how Blair touches him, his body’s response and the feelings that are swirling around between them both have pushed Pete past the point of no return.  He’s pretty much done for now in terms of this thing with Blair.  He can’t go back to the way things have been.  There’s their relationship before and there’s how it will be going forward.  Blair’s low groan of desire shakes him out of his thoughts and he stores that all away for later as he watches the perspiration spread a sheen of moisture across Blair’s body. 

Blair’s working his hips now, moved well past the point of checking that Pete’s okay with it all.  It’s pretty clear what Pete wants and he’s moving along with Blair to get them both there, pushing up against him as Blair retreats, and muttering out little sounds he can barely control each time Blair fills him again.  It feels too good to not want to race head on to the finish post, and Pete squeezes his cock in time with Blair’s urgent thrusts.

Pete’s thrown his head back, his body stretched and his muscles straining against his skin as he rocks with every movement of Blair’s hips.  Blair grits his teeth and drops his head for a moment, his eyes closing as he concentrates on how this feels.  He’s about to go racing over the edge, taking Pete with him, and as inevitable as it feels, it’s bringing closer the lesser known territory that lies after.

Blair stays close for a moment, buried deep and rocking his hips insistently, earning him Pete’s eyes on him again.  It’s almost like the last intimate moment before their bodies take over proceedings.  Pete feels it too as he watches Blair, the moment passing all too soon as Blair can’t resist any longer and he lets himself fall forward onto Pete’s damp body, his hips slapping desperately against him as he strangles out Pete’s name into his neck and lets go, exploding deep inside him and filling his hot body.

Pete roughly works his cock as he feels the change in Blair’s movements.  He pushes up against the body covering him and claws desperately at Blair’s back with his free hand to get him even closer.  As Pete feels Blair’s final thrust he feels his muscles clench hard around Blair’s cock as Blair floods him, and it sends him over the edge too.  Pete lets out Blair’s name somewhere along the way, as he feels his cock coat their bodies in the small space between them. 

Blair’s movements end with his cock still buried inside Pete and his face pressed into Pete’s neck.  He grins while trying to suck in breaths, feeling the warmth of Pete’s cum between them.

Pete lies back, feeling as if all the bones in his body have turned to liquid.  He runs his hands over Blair’s back and shoulders, smiling to himself as he feels his chest rise and fall between them.  Letting his legs finally move, he feels Blair pull out of his body as he finally straightens out, leaving Blair pressed down on top of him.

Blair repositions himself on top of Pete and kisses at his neck, moving up along his jaw as he enjoys the feeling of Pete’s hands running gently over his body.

Pete watches Blair’s head rise in front of him.  He brings his hand to cup the back of Blair’s neck as they pause for a second before he speaks.

“I want to stay here for a while.”

Blair smiles, leaning in to capture Pete’s lips without replying.  It’s a few minutes before they come up for air again.  Blair wants to keep kissing Pete, and Pete has no complaints.

When Blair finally settles his head against Pete’s chest, moving to curl into his side as Pete’s arm goes around him, he feels the difference.  Last time followed an incredible triumph as well.  That much was the same.  Last time they’d been celebrating and there’d been the giddiness of winning and all that brought with it.  Last time Blair had freaked out before Pete had had a chance to gain consciousness again, and fled the scene.  After several minutes, during which both men feel pleasantly relaxed again as their breathing evens out and they enjoy the closeness, Blair’s surprised that Pete’s the first to say anything.

“We can’t sleep here, can we?”

Blair moves right away, propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at Pete with a wide grin.

Pete looks back at Blair until he realises he’s not going to say anything and prompts in amusement, “what?”

Blair relaxes a little sliding and hand across Pete’s chest and watching his fingers as he does.

“No, but we could sleep somewhere else.”

Pete nods as if he’s contemplating the wind forecast for Bermuda. Blair’s not meeting his eyes, and Pete realises that this is one of those moments where things could go in one direction or another based on what he says next.

“We can shower here though right?” Finally Blair looks at him, nodding and looking like some sort of recognition of where this is heading is forming in his head.

“We should definitely shower.  Definitely.”  And Blair does something Pete isn’t really prepared for by running this fingers through the sticky mess lower on Pete’s body and leaning close into mutter something slightly obscene into his ear.

“Need to clean up your mess.”

Pete feels Blair’s lips curl close to his ear and Pete’s body reacts despite having just come hard.

Blair’s face comes into view again, his eyes shining in that way that Pete’s familiar with.  There’s something coming and Pete feels warmed already in anticipation.

“So…will you come back to my room with me?” Blair asks, and then does something then that again takes Pete off guard.  He takes Pete’s hand in his own and kisses gently across his knuckles, lifting his eyes to Pete’s as he does.

Pete’s stomach clenches up and he can’t speak for longer than feels comfortable.  When he finally does, he has to start again, his throat gone dry as he tries to get out the words.

“Ye…yes.”

Blair smiles like he’s just won the lottery on top of the America’s Cup and starts to shift himself off the bed.

Pete looks confused, his brain slowly catching up with what’s just happened.

“Where – ”

Before he can finish it, Blair is tossing Pete’s clothes at his head.

“You, me, shower, now.”

Pete finds his voice and somehow gets his limbs to play ball as he scrambles off the bed, pausing in front of Blair with this clothes clutched against his chest, grinning like an idiot.

Pete kisses Blair, pulling back to see Blair’s expression as he stands still with his eyes closed for half a minute, finally opening them and blinking at Pete as if he’s not sure if what’s in front of him is real.

He stays close to Pete as he speaks low, as if he can be overheard, “we’re sneaking out the back.  You’re texting Dalts to tell him you had to take me home because I had too much to drink.  And…” Blair glances around, a cheeky grin settling in place, “you can tell him we took the cup for safe-keeping.”

Pete’s eyes widen and he laughs, following Blair as he turns towards the bathroom in the corner of the room.

Blair stops again as they get there, turning and letting a hand rest on Pete’s chest.

“And one more thing.”  He watches Pete carefully, an almost serious expression spreading across his face. When he speaks again, his voice sounds more fragile than Pete’s ever heard.

“When we wake up in about 12 hours, I’m going to want to do this all over again, so you’d better tell me right now if you’re not planning on sticking around.”

Pete opens and closes his mouth.  The thought that Blair still thinks Pete might not want this makes his chest tighten.  His struggle to find some words to tell Blair how wrong that idea is takes long enough for Blair to get the wrong idea.  Pete can see it on his face and he shakes his head, mentally kicking himself for his inability to say what he needs to.

Blair’s about to turn away and all Pete can do is reach for his wrist, pulling him back towards him, and making Blair’s gaze shift from Pete’s fingers around his wrist to Pete’s face.

“I don’t want to let you go…” and Pete shakes his head, cursing himself at tripping over his words, “ever.”

He waits, watching Blair’s face for any sort of comprehension of what he’s just said.  When it comes, like a lot of thing with Blair, it’s unexpected, but perfect.

“Jesus…” Blair lets his body relax again, letting go of an anxious breath. “I thought you’d never fucking want me back.”

Pete doesn’t hesitate this time. “I’ve always wanted you back.”

Blair just nods, unable to wipe away his grin, he reaches for Pete’s hands and twines their fingers together, leaning in almost conspiratorially, “don’t tell anyone I held your hand.”

With that, he tugs Pete into the shower cubicle and turns on the hot water.

Pete lets Blair move him around under the hot water, and later, he lets Blair tuck him into his hotel bed before sliding in next to him and pulling the sheets over their spent bodies.

Later still, Pete will let Blair slide his mouth over his cock waking him from the best sleep he can remember having in a long time.  Maybe he didn’t really need to worry about the talking later thing afterall.

As he fully regains consciousness and pushes his hands into Blair’s hair to help guide his movements, he turns his head and settles his eyes on the cup, watching over them.  He can’t quite remember how they managed to get it back to Blair’s hotel room, but he’ll ask Blair about that later.

Pete was pretty sure yesterday that he’d won the best thing that he was ever likely to.  As he looks down at Blair’s eyes, focused on him as he does wonderful things to Pete with his mouth, he realises that maybe he’s in the process of winning the best thing he’s ever going to have.  No one’s going to throw him a victory parade or call him a national hero for it, but he’d take this win over all the others any day.

END.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a feeling there'll be more to come from these two...


End file.
